


All That Glitters is Probably Gold

by sparrow30



Series: Precious Metals [5]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Collars, Dom Otabek Altin, Dom/sub, Edging, Food Sex, Handcuffs, M/M, PWP with feelings, Phone Sex, Restraints, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Sub Yuri Plisetsky, Suspension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 09:56:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11965008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrow30/pseuds/sparrow30
Summary: Six weeks. Six full weeks without training schedules, or diet regimes. Six weeks without Yakov yelling at him or Lilia contorting him into some sort of human pretzel. Yuri grins into the pillow underneath him, stretching his limbs and relishing the ache of last night activities as he starfishes across the entirety of Otabek's king sized bed. He could spend the whole six weeks right here if he wanted; there's no good reason why he shouldn't.He hears whistling from outside the bedroom and twists so that he has a clear line of sight out the door and into the kitchen, where Otabek is pottering around completely naked apart from the novelty apron Yuri bought him last year for his birthday. Heat coils low in Yuri’s belly and he licks his lips in anticipation.Okay, maybe there's one good reason.In which Otabek and Yuri enjoy the off-season together. A lot.





	1. Week 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovely readers! This here is my entry for the YOI Shit Bang 2017, I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Officially this fic is set in the Precious Metals 'verse (more specifically between month 6 and month 12 of the Shards of Silver epilogue) but - given the spirit of the bang - this is basically 17.5k of gratuitous smut with a dash of feelings thrown in here and there because I really can't help myself. In other words, it should be pretty accessible even if you haven't read the rest of the series.
> 
> A huge, huge HUGE thank you to the wonderful [hoetabekaltin](http://hoetabekaltin.tumblr.com) for the amazing artwork that's in Chapter 4 - I still haven't gotten over how awesome it is!

Six weeks. 

 

Six full weeks without training schedules, or diet regimes. Six weeks without Yakov yelling at him or Lilia contorting him into some sort of human pretzel. Yuri grins into the pillow underneath him, stretching his limbs and relishing the ache of last night activities as he starfishes across the entirety of Otabek's king sized bed. He could spend the whole six weeks right here if he wanted; there's no good reason why he shouldn't. 

 

He hears whistling from outside the bedroom and twists so that he has a clear line of sight out the door and into the kitchen, where Otabek is pottering around completely naked apart from the novelty apron Yuri bought him last year for his birthday. Heat coils low in Yuri’s belly and he licks his lips in anticipation. 

 

Okay, maybe there's one good reason. 

 

Yuri slides out of bed and pads out of the room to join his boyfriend. Otabek is facing the counter, humming a tune to himself as he slices up fruit into uneven pieces, and he jumps in surprise when Yuri comes up behind him and slides his arms around his waist.

 

“Morning,” Yuri says, pressing a light kiss to his boyfriend’s neck before resting his chin over his shoulder to get a better look at what he’s doing. “Whatcha up to?”

 

“Morning,” Otabek replies, smiling as he twists his head to kiss Yuri’s cheek. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m making us breakfast.”

 

“Beka…” Yuri says warily. Almost two years together and Otabek still hasn’t gotten any better at cooking, despite Yuri’s best efforts to teach him. It’s almost impressive, really.

 

Otabek laughs, low and fond. “Relax, I’m just melting chocolate. Kind of hard to fuck that one up.”

 

As if on cue the microwave pings, and Yuri peels himself away from Otabek so that he can retrieve its contents. He opens the microwave door and wrinkles his nose at the faint smell of burning he’s greeted with. He carefully takes out the bowl of melted chocolate and frowns down at the thin layer of crust coating the liquid. “And yet somehow, you managed it.”

 

He yelps at the sudden sharp sting that blooms across his asscheek, and he spins around to see Otabek brandishing a wooden mixing spoon and a mock frown. “That’s not very nice of you,” Otabek pouts, plucking the bowl out of Yuri’s hands and turning his back on Yuri as he places it on the counter and returns to the chopping. 

 

Yuri huffs, rubbing his ass gingerly. “No fair, you shouldn’t be able to punish me for telling the truth,” he grumbles. 

 

“Well, if my melted chocolate is so far beneath your rigorous standards, I guess that means you don’t want to know what I had planned for it,” Otabek replies, giving a an exaggerated sigh. “Shame, it would have been such fun.”

 

Yuri perks up at the implication, all thoughts of his tender backside forgotten. Melted chocolate is tasty, but melted chocolate and sex? That’s a whole different story.

 

“I’m sorry, sir. I was only teasing,” Yuri wheedles as plasters himself to Otabek’s back again, hands running lightly across his bare chest underneath the apron. “I love your cooking really. It’s the best cooking ever.”

 

Otabek laughs sharply, “Now I know you’re lying.” He twists in Yuri’s arms so that they’re face to face, tilting his head to press a firm kiss to Yuri’s lips. “Lucky for you, I really want to play, so I’m going to give you a pass this time. I expect you to be good, and not make me regret my decision.”

 

There’s a coolness to his voice that makes Yuri shiver, the first tendrils of submission starting to flicker through his veins. “Yes, sir,” he says, voice low and husky.

 

Otabek grins and kisses Yuri again before turning back to the counter to pick up the bowl of chocolate and chopped strawberries. “Good boy. Over to the table.”

 

Yuri practically bolts across the open plan living room to the dining table on the other side of the room. He skids to a stop mere millimeters away from it, eyes wide as he take in the black cuffs lying across each corner. Each cuff is attached to a length of what looks like seatbelt material, trailing off the edges of the table. When Yuri ducks down to check where the material leads, he sees that they all come together to form an X underneath the table.

 

“What do you think?” Otabek asks, coming to stand next to Yuri.

 

“How did you set all this up without me hearing?” Yuri asks, one hand reaching out to trace the buckle of the nearest cuff.

 

Otabek laughs, placing the food on the coffee table next to them. “Is that a joke? You sleep like the dead. Wild horses with foghorns couldn’t wake you up before you’re ready.”

 

Yuri pouts, nudging Otabek’s shoulder with his own. “I’m not that bad.”

 

“Yes, you really are,” Otabek replies, moving to stand by the head of the table. He raps his knuckles on the hard wooden surface, the sound reverberating through the room. “Alright, up you get.”

 

Yuri doesn’t need telling twice. He briefly considers making a show of it, slinking up and over the far end of the table and crawling his way across the surface to meet Otabek, but quickly decides he’s far too impatient for all that. Instead he places both hands on the table and jumps to sit on it, swinging his legs as he lies down so that he’s spread-eagle across the surface.

 

“Good boy,” Otabek’s face appears above him, upside down from this angle, and Yuri hums happily as he bends down to press a quick kiss to his nose before moving to attach the cuffs around Yuri’s wrists and ankles. “How does that feel?” he asks as he tightens the last cuff.

 

Yuri tugs at the restraints to test them out. They’ve been adjusted well, with barely an inch of give. “Feels good,” he confirms, tugging a few more times for good measure.

 

“Good,” Otabek says again, and then the hand on his ankle disappears. Yuri cranes his head to see where Otabek has gone, but he returns to Yuri’s side a moment later holding the bowl of chocolate.

 

“Hold still,” he orders, then starts to drizzle the melted chocolate along Yuri’s torso.

 

Yuri yelps as the warm liquid hits his skin; not hot enough to burn but enough to be a shock. Otabek shushes him, drizzling more chocolate all over Yuri’s chest before picking up a piece of strawberry from the second bowl. He drags the fruit in a straight line from Yuri’s sternum to his belly button, collecting a healthy dollop of chocolate on the tip before bringing it to his mouth and eating it on one bite.

 

“Mmm,” Otabek says, picking up another piece of fruit and repeating the action. The fruit is chilled, and the sudden bursts of cool against the warmth of the chocolate send Yuri’s senses into overdrive. He writhes on the table, his hips jerking impotently as the rest of his body is held in place by the restraints, little whimpers escaping his mouth as Otabek cleans his chest of chocolate one piece of fruit at a time.

 

“Do you want a taste?” Otabek asks conversationally, popping another piece of fruit in his mouth and chewing languidly, one finger reaching out to trace through the remains of the chocolate dotted across Yuri’s skin. 

 

Yuri wants a hell of a lot more than that, but he knows when to take what he’s being offered. He nods his head eagerly, opening his mouth in anticipation. Otabek grins and brings his chocolate covered finger up to Yuri’s lips. “Suck,” he commands, and Yuri obediently starts to suckle the offered digit.

 

The chocolate is definitely burnt, but Yuri couldn’t care less. He moans in pleasure as he sucks Otabek’s finger further into his mouth, licking it clean with long sweeps of his tongue.

 

“Such a good boy,” Otabek praises again, slipping a second finger inside Yuri’s mouth to join the first. Yuri moans again, eyes fluttering closed as he simulates sex with Otabek’s fingers, losing himself in the sweet simplicity of the task.

 

All too soon Otabek draws his fingers away, replacing them with a soft kiss to quiet Yuri’s whine of displeasure. Then he starts to trail kisses down Yuri’s body, along his neck and across his collarbone. He moves down his chest, pausing in places to lick up the last of the chocolate, and over the sensitive skin of his hips until he’s hovering just above Yuri’s cock, lips practically kissing the tip where it lies hot and hard and heavy against Yuri’s belly.

 

“Mmm,” he repeats, before taking Yuri down in one swift movement.

 

Yuri cries out at the sudden sensation, hands clenching into fists in their restraints as he arches up off the table. Otabek splutters as Yuri inadvertently thrusts far too deep, but he continues to suck Yuri through it, hands coming up to Yuri’s hips to steady him.

 

He works Yuri over for a few minutes - a few minutes that have Yuri hurtling towards his edge embarrassingly fast - before drawing off with a lewd pop. 

 

“Beka,” Yuri whines, thrusting his hips erratically as he tries in vain to seek out more contact. The cool air of the room is almost painful against his dick, which is hard and glistening with moisture from Otabek’s mouth. “Beka,  _ please _ ,” he begs, knowing that it won’t help. Otabek will give him exactly what he wants, when he wants, and not a moment earlier.

 

“Shush,” Otabek says firmly, his hands disappearing from Yuri’s hips, and a moment later Yuri feels the cuffs around his ankles loosen and fall away. He hears Otabek fumble underneath the table, and then Otabek’s hands are back on his hips. This time rather than holding him in place, though, they drag him down the table, so that his ass is perched right on the edge of the wood. He hears the connecting fabric of the cuffs scrape against the edge of the table as the handcuffs slide down with him.

 

“Feet up,” Otabek commands, and Yuri obediently bends his knees so that he can place his feet flat on the table next to his ass. Otabek reaches underneath the table to grab the ankle cuffs, adjusting the connecting material so that there’s enough slack to accommodate Yuri’s new position. He buckles them around Yuri’s ankles again, and once more Yuri is completely immobile.

 

“Look at you, all spread out and waiting for me,” Otabek says as he takes in Yuri’s new position, the implication sending the blood rushing to Yuri’s already engorged cock. 

 

“Beka,” Yuri gasps as the pressure starts to build in his groin. Otabek ignores him in favour of picking up the bowl of chocolate and drizzling a healthy amount over Yuri’s crotch. He kneels at the end of the table, his face level with Yuris dripping cock. He pauses for a moment, letting the tension mount, then leans forward to lick a long stripe along Yuri’s dick, from balls to tip. 

 

Yuri cries out at the stimulation; Otabek's tongue cool after the warmth of the chocolate. He stares down in awe at Otabek, face framed between his shaking legs, and watches as Otabek licks his lips to clean them of a few stray specks of chocolate. 

 

Otabek hums appreciatively, using his index finger to stroke over Yuri’s tip and collect another dollop of chocolate that has mixed with the steady stream of precome Yuri is now leaking. He locks eyes with Yuri as he lifts the finger to his mouth, sucking it into his mouth and cleaning off the combined liquid. Yuri moans at the lewd gesture, but Otabek simply places his hands on Yuri’s thighs, and drops his head to suck him all the way down. 

 

Yuri let's his eyes flutter closed, basking in the long, luxurious slide of Otabek's mouth along his length. He feels weightless, like he's floating a foot above the table, as he loses himself in Otabek's ministrations. 

 

He's brought back to reality far too soon, though, when he suddenly feels warm liquid dripping along his crack. 

 

His eyes fly open and he squarks in surprise, thrashing for a moment before he remembers that he's restrained. “Please,  _ please _ tell me that's not also chocolate,” he begs, face scrunching in disgust. 

 

Otabek's head pops up between his legs, like some sort of perverse whackamole, his expression furrowed in confusion. “No, it's just regular lube,” he clarifies, holding up a bottle of the stuff.

 

Yuri let's out a sigh of relief, slumping back against the table. “Thank God for that. That was a horrible mental image.”

 

Otabek let's out a small laugh, scooping up some of the drizzled lube with his fingers so that he can start working it into the tight ring of Yuri’s ass. “Not to mention pretty unsanitary, I imagine.”

 

Yuri laughs, “Says the guy who just turned my dick into a chocolate pop.”

 

“That’s different,” Otabek argues, licking Yuri’s cock once more as if to prove his point, the tip of his index fingers starting to tease more insistently at his entrance.

 

“If you say so,” Yuri says dubiously, “But carry on.”

 

Otabek raises an eyebrow, and Yuri gasps as he feels two of Otabek's fingers breach his rim, sliding all the way inside of him in one smooth motion; firm and fast and just a hint rougher than usual.

“Are you telling me what to do, Yuri?” “No, no sir,” Yuri practically spits, taking a deep breath as he struggles to adjust to the sudden stretch. 

 

“I didn’t think so,” Otabek says, dragging his fingers out slowly and pumping them back in just as languidly. They slide in with less resistance this time, Yuri’s body starting to accommodate the intrusion. Yuri breathes out a long exhale, feeling the tight muscles of his ass start to relax bit by bit as Otabek starts to work him open. After a few pumps of his hand Otabek drops his head to start lavishing attention on Yuri’s cock once more. His fingers continue to move rhythmically inside of Yuri’s ass, and before long Yuri finds that the burn of the stretch is replaced with a different kind of heat entirely.

 

“Do you want a third?” Otabek draws off Yuri’s cock to ask, and Yuri shakes his head adamantly. 

 

“Want to feel you. Want to really feel you, Beka,” Yuri insists. It’s the first time in what seems like forever that he doesn’t have training looming on the horizon, and he fully intends to make the most of it. 

 

Otabek hums consideringly, but seems to be happy enough with Yuri’s suggestion. The next minute the fingers are gone, and Otabek is standing with his hips perfectly aligned with Yuri’s ass.

 

“You want me to fuck you so hard you’re still feeling it for days?” Otabek asks, his voice dangerously casual as he snaps on a condom before lining his cock up with Yuri’s entrance. Yuri can feel the blunt pressure against his loosened hole, and he moans in anticipation.

 

“Yes, fuck yes. I want it so bad. Please, sir,” he gasps, thrusting his hips as much as the restraints will allow. 

 

“Good.” Otabek says, voice ringing with dominance. He slides into Yuri, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth movement.

 

Yuri cries out as Otabek fills him, hands clenching and unclenching above his head as his ass flutters around Otabek’s cock. Otabek doesn’t waste any time, drawing all the way out before fucking back in again quick and hard, and this time Yuri’s moan is almost drowned out by one of Otabek’s own; his boyfriend voicing his appreciation loudly as he starts to pick up momentum.

 

Otabek’s hips snap roughly against Yuri’s ass, his movements so vigorous that Yuri finds himself being shunted up the table with every thrust. After a while he feels Otabek’s hands slip underneath his ass, lifting him slightly off the table so that Otabek has a better angle, and Yuri practically howls as the change causes Otabek’s cock to hit his prostate over and over again.

 

“Fuck, Yuri, you feel so good,” Otabek gasps, a faint sheen of sweat starting to form on his temple. 

 

“Harder, Beka. Please, harder,” Yuri begs, practically delirious with want. Otabek groans, and Yuri has no idea whether it’s in appreciation or exhaustion, but the next minute Otabek is pounding into him so hard Yuri thinks he might actually split down the middle.

 

“Yes, oh fuck  _ yes _ ,” Yuri moans, feeling his climax start to build underneath his skin. “I’m so close. Beka, sir, please, please touch me.”

 

Otabek growls, one hand leaving Yuri’s ass so that he can start to fist roughly at Yuri’s cock, and Yuri cries out as he creeps closer to his peak. “Ah...fuck...please...I’m gonna…”

 

“Come for me,” Otabek commands, voice cracking as his hips stutter against Yuri’s ass. Yuri gasps as his orgasm grips him, his cock pulsing in Otabek’s hand as it erupts across his chest.

 

“ _ Yuri _ ,” Otabek cries, thrusting into Yuri so hard the whole table shudders before collapsing on top of Yuri as his own release takes hold.

 

The two of them lie panting for some time, too tired in the wake of their respective orgasms to consider moving. Eventually Otabek grunts and pushes himself off Yuri, which causes Yuri to pout. He likes feeling Otabek on top of him, enveloping him completely. It feels wrong now, like he’s off-kilter somehow.

 

It’s a testimony to how orgasm-addled his brain is that it takes him far longer that it really should to realize that he’s not just metaphorically off-kilter, but also literally. 

 

“Beka,” he starts, taking in the way his body is now listing to the left. “I think there’s something wrong with the table.”

 

“Hmm?” Otabek asks, moving to undo the restraints around Yuri’s legs. 

 

“The table, it’s wonky,” Yuri clarifies, jerking his head to the left to showcase what he means. Otabek frowns, but ducks to check on the table legs after he’s undone both of Yuri’s ankle restraints. When he emerges again he looks decidedly sheepish.

 

“Beka!” Yuri exclaims, wriggling his bottom half in outrage since his hands are still restrained. “Tell me we didn’t break the table!”

 

“We broke the table,” Otabek deadpans, moving to undo Yuri’s wrist restraints.

 

“Oh my god!” Yuri shrieks, jumping off the table as soon as he’s free so he can look for himself. Sure enough, one of the legs has snapped almost in two, shards of wood sticking out at all angles. “I can’t believe it, we broke your table. We fucked your table into an early grave.”

 

“To be fair, it was a pretty old table,” Otabek replies, still sounding completely relaxed about the whole situation. When Yuri simply glares at him he laughs, wobbling the table with his hand so that it creaks and groans. “It’s really not the end of the world. We’ll just have to go to Ikea and get a new one.”

 

“Bekaaaaa,” Yuri whines, properly aggrieved now. “You  _ know _ how much I hate that place.”

 

Otabek sighs and rolls his eyes, but his expression is fond as he slips an arm around Yuri’s waist and presses a warm kiss to his lips, completely ignoring the sticky mess between them. “Tell you what, you come with me to Ikea, and afterwards we can do some online shopping for some more fun purchases.”

 

Yuri raises an eyebrow curiously. “By fun you mean…” he prompts, reasonably sure he knows what Otabek is implying but wanting to hear him say it.

 

Otabek grins, expression devious. “Sex toys, Yura,” he says bluntly, grin stretching wider as Yuri’s breath hitches at the suggestion. “We do have six weeks to fill, after all.”


	2. Week 2

“That one looks cool, let’s take a look at that one,” Yuri points eagerly at a picture of a fluorescent blue plug on Otabek’s computer screen. Otabek dutifully clicks through to the detail page of the website so that they can both see more information.

 

“Mmmm, yes please,” Yuri says, eyes bright as he takes in the specifications. It's much wider than anything he has at the moment, with delicious ridges swirling all the way down the conical shaft. Yuri can practically imagine how full he’ll feel with it seated all the way inside of him.

 

Otabek hums in agreement and clicks the add to cart button. “We should probably add more lube in that case,” he notes absently, navigating through the menu to reach the appropriate section.

 

Yuri frowns, “Didn’t we stock up on lube last week?” he asks, wondering if Otabek has forgotten.

 

“That was silicone based. We need water based for toys like this or they won’t last as long,” Otabek states matter-of-factly as he adds two bottles of KY to the cart as well.

  
“Oh. Right. Of course,” Yuri mutters, cheeks flushing pink as they always do when he’s reminded just how much more experienced Otabek is when it comes to this sort of stuff.

 

Not that Yuri minds, really. Otabek’s never made him feel inadequate for his lack of experience, and Yuri loves being able to learn new things with his boyfriend, but sometimes he does get curious…

 

“How did you learn all this stuff?” he asks before he really thinks about what he’s saying.

 

Otabek raises a curious eyebrow at Yuri, “How did I learn about different types of lube?” His tone is completely innocent, but Yuri can tell by the slight twitch of his mouth that he’s teasing Yuri. The fucker.

 

He shoves at Otabek’s shoulder with his palm. “You know what I mean,” he says, “Dominance and all that other shit.”

 

“Dominance - and all that other shit,” Otabek repeats, very obviously trying not to laugh now.

 

Yuri scowls and shoves at him again. “Just answer the question, jackass.”

 

“Okay, okay,” Otabek holds his hands up in surrender. “I had a girlfriend a few years back who wanted to try it out. We researched a lot of it together.”

 

Oh. Right. Yuri feels something tighten in his chest at Otabek’s casual mention of an ex-girlfriend, which is stupid because _of course_ Otabek dated people before Yuri. _Of course_ that’s how he learnt about the BDSM scene. Really, it shouldn’t come as a surprise to Yuri that this is his answer.

 

A part of him wishes he hadn’t asked.

 

Otabek doesn’t react to sudden tension that has flooded Yuri’s body, but Yuri knows that Otabek knows him far too well to not have noticed the change. It’s probably why he continues speaking, tone overly casual as he continues to flick through the site still displayed on his laptop. “It was fun experimenting together, but we realized pretty quickly that we both far prefered being the dominant party. Kind of limited things I guess.” He twists and smiles softly at Yuri, “Before you ask, that’s not why we broke up.”

 

Yuri’s scowl deepens; he didn’t realize he was so predictable. “Why did you break up then?” he can’t help asking.

 

Otabek shrugs, turning back to the computer, “I moved to Canada to train. We decided that neither of us were invested enough in the relationship to see if we could make it work long distance.”

 

Yuri winces, he can’t ever imagine being so relaxed about breaking up with Otabek. Yuri would probably follow him halfway across the world if that was where he wanted to go - as long as there’s a rink nearby Yuri doesn’t much care where he’s living.

 

“Do you miss her?” The words are out of his mouth before he realizes that he probably doesn’t want to know the answer. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

 

“Of course.” Otabek’s voice is still so calm, a stark contrast to the tempest of emotions that flare inside Yuri’s chest at the words. “She’s still a good friend, it would be nice not to live so far away from one another.” He raises an eyebrow at Yuri, “But that’s not what you meant, was it?”

 

Yuri shakes his head, his chest hurting too much for words. He wonders if it’s possible to see a heart fracturing from the outside.

 

Otabek’s hand comes up to cup Yuri’s neck as he leans in, their foreheads so close they’re almost touching. Yuri can feel warm puffs of air against his lips as Otabek speaks, “What I had with her is nothing compared to what we have Yura. Nothing ever will be.”

 

Yuri can’t help letting out a soft whimper, his eyes slipping closed as he slumps forward, closing the gap between them so that their foreheads actually are touching. How does Otabek always know just what to say to calm the raging storm inside him?

 

They stay connected for a long moment, Yuri basking in Otabek’s touch. It’s silly for him to get so insecure over something as obvious as an ex. He knows what they have together is special, far more special than he has any right to. And yet, here they are.

 

It takes much longer than it possibly should do for one final piece of the puzzle to fall into place, and when it finally does Yuri can’t help jerking back in surprise.

 

“Wait, you date girls?” he says, eyes wide as realization dawns.

 

Otabek bites down on his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing, but the skin around his eyes still crinkles as he replies, “Well, right now I date Yuris. Specifically small, angry, Russian ones. But I have dated women in the past, yes.”

 

“Does this mean you’re…” Yuri trails off, not wanting to assume anything.

 

“Bisexual?” Otabek helpfully supplies, not even trying to contain his grin as Yuri’s eyes widen even further. “It’s okay Yuri, despite what mainstream media might have you believe, _it’s not actually a dirty word._ ” He lowers his voice conspiratorially for the last part, as if sharing a sordid secret.

 

“Shut up, I know that. Just surprised me, is all,” Yuri snaps, flushing bright red again at having been called out. Otabek laughs again, his expression fond as he reaches out to stroke Yuri’s cheek.

 

“Well, now you know.”

 

Silence falls after that, and while Otabek seems content browsing the website still up on his laptop, Yuri feels…itchy. Like there’s more to be said.

 

“I could be bisexual,” he finally blurts out, slamming his mouth shut as Otabek turns to look at him again.

 

“Could be?” Otabek clarifies, head tilted to the side like he does when he’s curious.

 

Yuri nods, not entirely sure where he’s going with this but fuck it, he’s committed now. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve never been attracted to any girls, but I’ve also never been attracted to any guys other than you so...”

 

He shrugs as he trails off. Part of him wonders if he should feel embarrassed admitting that Otabek is the only person he’s ever been attracted to, but judging by the flush that tints Otabek’s skin in response, he likes to think Otabek is probably okay with it.

 

He shrugs again, chewing his bottom lip as he considers. “Who knows? Maybe I’m Otabek-sexual.”

 

Otabek laughs softly at that, and leans in again to press a soft kiss to Yuri’s lips. “Well, I don’t mind how you identify, as long as I get to have you.”

 

Yuri hums happily in agreement, chasing Otabek’s mouth as he draws back. Otabek laughs and placates him with another chaste kiss. “You know, we still have one toy from our last order that we haven’t tried out yet.”

 

Yuri’s eyes brighten as he suddenly remembers the cock ring still in its packaging at the bottom of Otabek’s wardrobe. “Oh, yeah!”

 

Otabek laughs, and turns back to his laptop, voice deceptively casual as he says, “Tell you what, if you can get yourself ready for me by the time I’ve finished placing this order, I’ll wear it and fuck you until you’ve come so many times you can’t remember your own name.”

 

Yuri is already halfway out of his seat before the full extent of Otabek’s challenge fully registers. “And if I’m not ready in time?” he asks, whole body still tensed to bolt into the bedroom if Otabek’s other option calls for it.

  
“Hmmm…” Otabek makes a show of thinking for an alternative, even though Yuri is sure he’s had the two options decided from the moment he suggested they play. “If you’re not ready for me in time, then _you’ll_ wear it, and I’ll use you as my human vibrator until I’m completely satisfied. And before you ask, no, you won’t get to come at the end of it.” He clicks a few buttons on the website, then glances up at Yuri, the very picture of unconcerned. “Clock’s ticking, Yura.”

 

Yuri doesn’t think he’s ever moved so fast in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I considered writing the actual sex scene for this chapter, but in the end decided it was more fun as a 'choose your own adventure' type ending. What do you think, did Yuri manage to get ready in time?


	3. Week 3

“How's your food?”

 

“Fine.”

 

“Only fine? I thought this was your favorite takeout in St. Petersburg?”

 

“It tastes like betrayal.”

 

“ _ Yura _ .” Otabek's tone is halfway between chiding and pleading. “Don't be like this, please.”

 

“I just don't understand why you have to go,” Yuri says sulkily, crossing his arms and slouching in his chair opposite Otabek. 

 

“You know that I haven't seen my family in almost two years, but you don't understand why I'm choosing to visit them during our time off? Really?” There’s definitely a hint of exasperation slipping into Otabek’s tone now, and Yuri huffs in annoyance. 

 

“Okay fine. I don't understand why I can't come with you, then.”

 

“Yura, please. We’ve been over this,” Otabek’s hand creeps across the table, an olive branch that Yuri steadfastly refuses to acknowledge. “I can't just show up on my family's doorstep with a boyfriend in tow. I have to tell them about you first. Face to face.”

 

“Is it because I'm your  _ boy _ friend?” Yuri bites out, doubling down on his anger in an attempt to stop the hurt he's feeling from showing on his face. 

 

“What? No _._ It's because I'm the baby of the family, and my Mom has been overprotective of me ever since I first moved away to train. They're going to love you, I swear. I just need to tell them the right way.”

 

Yuri huffs again, but it's hard to stay mad when Otabek is staring at him with such an open, pleading expression on his face. 

 

“I just don't want you to go,” he eventually says, hating how small his voice sounds. 

 

“I know, I don't want to leave you either.” Otabek's hand creeps even further across the table, tips of his fingers stroking questioningly at Yuri’s elbow. After a moment’s hesitation Yuri relents and uncrosses his arms so that he can take Otabek’s hand. 

 

They sit in silence for what feels like forever, Otabek’s thumb rubbing little circles into Yuri’s palm as Yuri stares down at their joined hands, biting his bottom lip ruthlessly to try and keep himself from crying. He knows he’s being childish, but that doesn’t change how much the idea of Otabek leaving still hurts.

 

After a while Otabek lets out a small sigh, pushing away from the table with a scrape of his chair. Yuri looks up in surprise as Otabek walks over to his desk, connecting his phone to the speakers that are sitting on them. The light strumming of a guitar fades in, quickly followed by a familiar percussion beat, and Yuri feels his lips quirk into a smile despite everything as he recognizes the song.

 

“Really Beka?” he asks as Otabek crosses back across the room and holds out his hand for Yuri to take.

 

“Dance with me,” Otabek says simply, tugging Yuri to his feet and leading him away from the table to where there’s more space.

 

“This is silly,” Yuri complains, but slips his hands around Otabek’s waist nonetheless. Otabek sways them gently to the crooning vocals, pulling Yuri closer to him so that their bodies are pressed together. Yuri huffs out a loud breath, his chest feeling tight as the chorus hits and the lyrics wash over him. 

 

_ Save tonight and fight the break of dawn.  
_ _ Come tomorrow, tomorrow I'll be gone. _

 

“This is so sappy,” Yuri says even as he lets his head drop to rest against Otabek’s shoulder. Otabek hums, arms wrapping tighter around Yuri as he presses a soft kiss to his forehead.

 

“I like to think it’s romantic,” he replies quietly, and Yuri lets out a wet laugh, not trusting his voice not to crack if he tries to say anything more.

 

The chorus fades out, giving way to the second verse. Otabek starts to sing along, voice soft and melodious. 

 

_ It ain't easy to say goodbye _ _  
_ _ Darlin' please, don't start to cry _

 

“'Cause boy you know I've got to go,” Otabek sings, purposefully changing the lyrics to fit. “And Lord I wish it wasn't so. Save tonight...”

 

The songs starts to close out, and Yuri finds himself clinging tighter to Otabek’s frame. He doesn’t ever want this moment to end; just him and Otabek and the music that seems to seep into his soul.

 

As the last beats of the song fade out Yuri takes a deep breath, relaxing his grip so that they can both breathe normally again. He twists his head to look at Otabek, who is staring at him with such a tender expression that Yuri finds it wasn’t the embrace that was affecting his breathing after all.

 

“I didn’t know you could sing,” Yuri eventually says, his voice surprisingly steady all things considered.

 

“Only for you,” Otabek replies, humming softly along to the intro of the new song that’s started to play.

 

“You’re really good,” Yuri says, partly because it’s true but more because he doesn’t know how to react to Otabek’s painfully raw statement.

 

“What do you want tonight, Yuri?” Otabek asks, voice quiet and earnest. “What can I give you before I go?”

 

Yuri nuzzles his face into Otabek’s neck, giving the question the proper attention it deserves. Finally he draws back so that he can meet Otabek’s gaze.

 

“Make me yours,” he says simply.

 

Otabek grins, expression turning dark and predatory. “That I can definitely do.” His arms slide from around Yuri’s neck, tracing over his shoulders and down his arms to take both of his hands. “Come with me.”

 

Otabek leads Yuri through into the bedroom, takeout left all but forgotten on the table. He halts when they’re just in front of the bed and kisses Yuri once, sweetly, on the lips before dropping to his knees to unbuckle Yuri’s belt.

 

Yuri feels his cock start to swell at the sight of Otabek on his knees in front of him, and he lifts his hand to rest tentatively on Otabek’s head as his boyfriend finishes with his belt and moves to unbutton his jeans. Otabek moves slowly, reverently, tugging both Yuri’s jeans and his briefs down his legs in one smooth movement. Once he’s helped Yuri to step out of them he bends to kiss Yuri’s feet, body practically prostrated in front of him. It’s a stark change to their usual bedroom dynamic, and Yuri can only stare on in shocked wonder as Otabek kisses each of his ankles before slowly moving up to his calves. Yuri’s breath hitches as Otabek presses hot, open mouthed kisses to his skin, taking his time to lavish attention on Yuri’s strong skater thighs before nipping lightly at the sensitive skin of his groin with his teeth.

 

Yuri yelps at the sensation, hips bucking in front of Otabek’s face, and Otabek tilts his head to grin up at Yuri.

 

“Keen?” he asks teasingly. Yuri can only glare at him in response; words have already started to become a struggle.

 

Otabek stands up, hands tracing up Yuri’s sides to grip the fabric of his t-shirt and pull it over his head. Yuri allows himself to be manhandled, and is rewarded with a heated kiss once he’s completely naked.

 

“Get on the bed,” Otabek eventually breaks away just enough to say. His voice is rough with desire, and Yuri hastens to comply, setting himself up so that he’s sitting with his back resting against the headboard. Otabek quickly strips out of his own clothes before joining Yuri on the bed, prowling over to him and slinking up his body until he’s straddling Yuri’s hips with his own.

 

He grinds down into Yuri’s crotch as he claims Yuri’s lips once more. His hands grip the headboard, bracketing Yuri’s head as he deepens the kiss. Yuri whines and lets his jaw relax, allowing Otabek’s tongue to slip inside and claim every inch of his mouth. His hands flutter along Otabek’s skin before coming to rest on his hips, tightening their grip as Otabek continues to rock down into him. Their cocks are trapped together between their bodies, rubbing together with enough friction that it’s only just the right side of painful. Yuri gasps against Otabek’s lips and bucks his hips, trying to seek out more.

 

Eventually Otabek breaks the kiss, shushing Yuri’s whine of complaint with one last peck before leaning over to grab the lube sitting on the bedside table. He shuffles down Yuri’s body, gripping the underside of Yuri’s knees to tug him slightly further down the bed.

 

Yuri moves where Otabek guides him, spreading his legs wider and canting his hips so that Otabek has clear access to his ass. Otabek hums in appreciation, uncapping the bottle of lube and squirting a healthy amount over his fingers before moving to rub at Yuri’s hole. He doesn’t waste any time before pushing in with his index finger, and Yuri moans at the familiar stretch. Otabek works him over lightly with one finger, quickly adding a second and a third not long after. He’s careful, never forcing Yuri’s body to take more than it’s ready to handle, but his prep starts to take on a certain sense of urgency, like his desire to be inside of Yuri is winning out over his self-restraint. Yuri can relate; he feels like he might explode if he doesn’t feel Otabek’s cock inside of him soon.

 

After a few more moments Otabek withdraws his fingers, reaching over to grab a condom from the bedside table. Something in Yuri balks at the idea of there being a layer of latex between them, and his hand instinctively whips out to grab Otabek’s wrist.

 

Otabek twists to face him, looking confused. “You don’t want to?” he asks, voice carefully neutral neutral despite the arousal that’s clearly bubbling just underneath his skin.

 

Yuri shakes his head adamantly. “I don’t want to use a condom,” he clarifies.

 

Otabek’s eyes widen, but he drops the foil packet back on the table. “Are you sure?” he asks.

 

Yuri nods firmly. “Yes. I’m ready. Want to feel you inside of me, without anything between us.”

 

Otabek’s eyes flicker with desire, and he practically growls as he surges up to kiss Yuri again, hot and urgent. Yuri feels himself go supple underneath Otabek’s passionate onslaught, his mind already starting to float.

 

Otabek breaks away just long enough to line himself up with Yuri’s entrance, then claims his lips again as he slides home. The air feels punched out of Yuri’s lungs, leaving his mouth in a hot whoosh over Otabek’s spit-slicked lips. Physically is doesn’t feel that much different to all the other times they’ve had sex, but just the idea of them being connected in such an intimate way has Yuri’s release surging up inside of him almost immediately.

 

“Fuck, Beka you feel so good,” he moans, wrapping his legs around the backs of Otabek’s thighs to encourage him to go deeper. Otabek groans and snaps his hips, fucking deep into Yuri with every thrust.

 

Yuri gasps as Otabek drives into him, his whole body sparking with pleasure. His hands scrabble at Otabek’s back, his short nails scratching red line after red line across his boyfriend’s skin. He feels Otabek’s hand slip between them to stroke at his cock, and he practically howls in pleasure.

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he starts to chant, his orgasm building in his balls. “Oh god, can I… please sir...”

 

“Not yet,” Otabek says firmly, the snap of his hips increasing in strength and speed as he clearly heads towards his own climax. “I want you here with me when I come in you, want you to feel every second of me filling you.”

 

Yuri moans, head lolling to the side as Otabek’s words only serve to fan the flames of arousal inside of him. “Yes,  _ yes _ . Come in me sir, make me yours.”

 

Otabek groans, hips stuttering as he fucks forward one last time before stilling, and Yuri swears he can feel Otabek’s release pulsing inside of him. He gasps, grinding his ass down onto Otabek’s cock as his fingers tighten their grip on Otabek’s shoulders. “Please, please sir,” he begs, not knowing how long he can stave off his own orgasm.

 

“Yes,” Otabek pants, stroking his fist rapidly along Yuri’s cock and Yuri’s whole body arches off the bed as he finally lets go. Hot liquid splashes against his chest, pulse after pulse of his own release, and he slumps boneless into the mattress underneath him.

 

Otabek slowly draws out, and Yuri grimaces as he feels liquid start to trickle down his crack. “Hold it in,” Otabek orders, and Yuri manages to gather his wits enough to tense his ass muscles enough to stop anything else from leaking out. Otabek hums in appreciation, disappearing off the bed for a moment before returning with a slim black plug.

 

It takes a moment for Yuri to recognize the item for what it is, but when he does he moans in pleasure. “Yesss,” he slurs as Otabek slicks the plug up with more lube before pressing the tip against Yuri’s hole.

 

It’s their smallest plug, barely wider than a finger, and it slides in easily after Otabek’s cock. Otabek pushes it all the way in, until it’s nestled neatly between Yuri’s asscheeks, then taps the end lightly. “That stays in until I get on the plane for Almaty tomorrow,” he says, “Keep me inside of you until I leave.”

 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” is all Yuri can think to say in response, brain too fixated on the fact that Otabek’s come is now held inside of him, coating his insides and claiming him in this most intimate of ways.

 

Otabek grins, tapping the plug once more before sliding off the bed. Yuri raises an eyebrow curiously at Otabek, body still so relaxed in the wake of his orgasm that he’s unwilling to even consider moving.

 

“Come on,” Otabek says lightly, his expression deceptively innocent. “We still have takeout to finish.”


	4. Week 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working out the timings for this chapter very nearly killed me! Timestamps are all from Yuri's perspective in St. Petersburg, and Otabek is three hours ahead in Almaty.
> 
> Thank you again hoetabekaltin for the gorgeous artwork, I really can't say it enough!

_(04.07) Just landed._

_(04.10) Flight was fine, no screaming babies which is alway good._

_(04.10) Mom brought a banner to arrivals and cried when she saw me. Feels good to be home._

_(04.23) I guess you're already asleep. I probably should be too._

_(04.24) talk tomorrow, Love you Yura._

 

* * *

 

(08.35) Morning!

(08.36) Your family sounds nice. I better be getting photos of this banner.

(08.36) I'm not missing you after less than 24 hours cos that would be lame. Potya does though.

(08.40) [Image description: Potya fast asleep on Yuri’s bed.]

(08.40) see.

(08.41) St. Petersburg feels weird without you.

 

_(09.05) [Image description: Otabek standing in front of a huge handmade banner saying WELCOME HOME in slightly wonky letters. He's surrounded by at least 12 family members.]_

_(09.05) Miss you too Yura_

 

* * *

 

(17.16) Just got back from the rink, free to chat?

 

_(17.18) Sorry, just sat down for dinner. Been a crazy day. Can I call you afterwards?_

 

(17.19) Sure, if I haven't drowned in the shower.

(17.19) I'm out of shape.

 

_(17.20) It's been less than a month._

 

(17.21) That's a month longer than I usually spend off the ice.

(17.21) I don't usually have such a good distraction during the off season ;p

 

_(17.22) Don't overdo it while I'm gone, it's called a break for a reason._

 

(17.23) Yes sir.

(17.24) say hi to the family from me.

(17.24) if you've told them about me yet.

 

_(17.25) yura…._

 

(17.25) kidding!

(17.25) sort of.

 

_(17.27) we'll talk later, okay?_

 

(17.27) k

 

* * *

 

Missed call from Otabek Altin.

 

_(18.07) You didn't actually drown in the shower did you?_

 

(19.20) Crap, sorry. You still around?

 

Otabek Altin missed your call.

 

(19.25) Guess not…

 

* * *

 

_(11.17) sorry about last night, think the travelling hit me harder than I thought_

_(11.17) pretty sure I was asleep by ten._

 

(11.20) I keep telling you, you're an old man at heart.

(11.21) big plans for today then?

 

_(11.25) Seeing all the family during the day. And when I say all, I mean ALL._

_(11.26) seriously, I think mom has invited over my third cousins twice removed or something_

 

(11.27) Owch.

(11.27) next time I start thinking it would be nice to have a family bigger than me and grandpa remind me of this.

 

_(11.30) you *do* have a family bigger than you and your grandpa, you know that yura_

 

(11.35) you're such a  sap

 

_(11.36) yes_

_(11.36) and?_

 

(11.37) shush.

(11.38) wanna try skyping again this evening?

 

_(11.40) ah sorry, made plans to have dinner with some friends._

 

(11.41) oh yeah. Makes sense. How long’s it been?

 

_(11.42) almost three years for some of them._

 

(11.43) yeesh

(11.43)  say hi from me

(11.43) ...do they know about me?

 

_(11.45) yura!_

 

(11.45) sorry, sorry.

(11.47) Srsly though, do they?

 

_(11.48) yes they know about you._

_(11.48) as do my parents_

 

(11.49) WHAT

(11.49) when did you tell them??

 

_(11.50) last night_

 

(11.50) AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME??

 

_(11.51) I was gonna tell you on Skype!_

 

(11.52) *grumbles*

(11.52) so how did they take it?

 

_(11.53) they'd already guessed_

 

(11.54) hah, really?

 

_(11.55) yeah._

_(11.55) I guess a lot of my social media has you in it nowadays_

 

(11.56) told you I could have come with you!

 

_(11.57) I know, I know_

_(11.57) next time, okay?_

 

(11.58) fiiiine

 

_(11.59) gotta run, Skype tomorrow?_

 

(11.59) I guess I'll survive til then

 

* * *

 

_(01.04) [Image Description: Otabek leaning drunkenly on his friend’s shoulder in a nightclub, an uncharacteristically open smile on his face.]_

_(01.28) Loooove you_

 

(07.02) dear God, I hope you drank a lot of water when you got home

(07.05) love you too Beks.

 

* * *

 

_(09.16) I feel like death._

 

(09.20)  you have nobody to blame but yourself.

 

_(09.21) yuri I'm dying._

_(09.21) be more sympathetic_

 

(09.25) wow… Never pegged you for a whiny hungover person

(09.25) take an advil. Chug water. Go back to sleep.

 

_(09.33) yes mom_

 

(09.35) don't ever call me that again

 

* * *

 

_(16.12) OK, I'm alive_

_(16.12) sort of_

_(16.13) Skype?_

 

(16.20) signing in now.

 

“Hello?... Beka?...Can you hear me?.... Helloooo? I can see you but I can’t hear you… no, I have no idea what you're saying…. Oh for fucks sake….”

 

(16.45) well… That went well….

 

_(16.46) wonders of modern technology huh?_

_(16.47) Dad's calling, think dinner’s ready. Talk later?_

  
(16.47) sure.

 

* * *

 

_(05.26) don't ever challenge Alina to a game of monopoly._

_(05.27) she'll rinse you for everything you own._

 

(08.05) ah so that's where you disappeared off to last night.

(08.22) just about to head to the rink, talk later?

 

_(08.25) have fun, don't work yourself too hard._

_(08.25) I think I'll have some time this evening if you wanna try and get Skype working again?_

 

(08.26) yeah we can try.

 

* * *

 

_(19.25) you around?_

 

(20.07) just got back from the rink

 

_(20.08) yuri!_

_(20.08) It's… 8pm in st Petersburg_

 

(20.11) so?

 

_(20.12) have you been there all day?_

 

(20.12) ...Maybe

 

_(20.13) yuri!_

_(20.13) This is supposed to be down time, remember?_

 

(20.15) it's not like I have anything better to do

 

_(20.16) sounds like I need to find you something to better to do_

 

(20.17) gonna be hard from 10000 miles away

 

_(20.18) 2000_

_(20.18) but I see your point._

 

(20.20) mmmhmm

(20.20) rain check on Skype? Pretty tired, think I might have an early night.

 

_(20.21) I wonder why…._

 

* * *

 

_(05.31) Morning_

_(05.31) I know you’re probably still asleep._

_(05.32) But please don’t spend the whole day at the rink again today_

_(05.32) Seriously, your body needs a break._

_(06.02) Family outing to the zoo today. Sometimes I think my parents still think I’m 5_

_(06.02) Still, I get to see the bears, so I’m not complaining._

 

(09.27) You’re worse than Yakov sometimes, you know that?

 

_(16.02) I know, I’m sorry._

_(16.02) So what did you get up to today?_

 

(17.05) How was the zoo?

 

_(17.11) Really good, l met some friends of yours_

_(17.11)_

_(17.12) So...what did you get up to?_

 

(17.15) They’re so badass!

(17.15) were there any cubs?

 

_(17.16) Yuri…_

 

(17.16) What?

 

_(17.17) You’re avoiding my question_

 

(17.18) Am not

 

_(17.18) so..._

 

(17.18) so...

 

_(17.19) Yuri!_

 

(17.20) Okay *fine*

(17.20) I went to the rink

 

_(17.21) Yuri_

_(17.21) why_

 

(17.22) I was bored okay!

(17.23) Stop lecturing me

(17.23) I get enough of that from everyone else in my life.

(17.23) I don’t need it from you too

 

_(17.24) Okay, okay, I’m sorry_

_(17.24) It’s only because I care._

 

(17.27) It’s fine.

(17.27) I’ve gotta go

 

_(17.28) Okay, talk later?_

 

(17.30) k

 

* * *

 

(22.07) sorry about earlier

 

_(22.16) s’ok_

_(22.16) wanna talk about it?_

 

(22.17) it's nothing

 

_(22.18) doesn't sound like nothing_

 

(22.18) it's dumb

 

_(22.19) if it's affecting you it's not dumb_

 

(22.19) what are you, my shrink?

 

_(22.20) you don't have to talk if you don't want._

 

(22.20) ugh

(22.26) I just miss you, okay?

 

_(22.26) I miss you too yura_

 

(22.27) no you don't understand

(22.28) i MISS you

(22.28) it feels like an otabek shaped hole has been cut out of me

(22.29) I want to see your dumb face, and hear your dumb voice, but I can't because technology is shit and time differences hate us

(22.29) and I just…

(22.29) it feels so empty here without you and it *hurts*

(22.29) and it's so stupid because I am a grown ass adult

(22.29) I should be able to last a week without my boyfriend

(22.30) but apparently not

(22.30) it's pathetic

 

_(22.32) it's not pathetic_

_(22.32) it's okay to miss people_

 

(22.33) one week!

(22.34) less than that

(22.34) you've been gone 97 hours

(22.34) yes, I worked it out.

(22.35) see.

(22.35) Pathetic.

 

_(22.36) this is the longest we've been apart since we started dating_

_(22.36) it's hard for me too_

 

(22.38) don't treat me with kid gloves beka, I know i’m being dumb

 

_(22.39) I'm not, I swear. The only reason I'm even halfway okay with being this far away from you for so long is that I have so many distractions here._

_(22.40) I'm sorry I've been so absent this week_

 

(22.40) no, don't you dare.

(22.40) don't you dare feel guilty for spending time with your family and friends

(22.41) this is my damage, not yours

 

_(22.41) yura…_

 

(22.42) FUCK

(22.42) when did I get this clingy? How did this happen?

 

_(22.43) I don't think it's clingy. I think it's caring for someone._

  
(22.44) I don't like it.

 

_(22.45) I know_

_(22.45) umm…_

_(22.45) i hate to say this...but I'm out with some friends and we’re about to go into a club_

_(22.45) want me to head home instead?_

 

(22.46) NO

(22.46) Seriously beka, you're only there for a few more days. Make the most of it.

(22.47) I'll be okay

 

_(22.47) hmmm_

 

(22.48) I will!

(22.48) I'm the ice tiger of Russia

 

_(22.49) Ok. If you're sure_

 

(22.49) I am. Promise.

 

_(22.50) Alright._

_(22.50) Do me a favor? Keep your phone near you tomorrow_

 

(22.51) ok

(22.51) why?

 

_(22.52) You'll see._

_(22.52) Love you Yura_

 

(22.52) Love you too

 

* * *

 

_(05.21) Good morning Yura._

_(05.21) When you wake up. I want you to take a photo of your three favorite toys and send it to me._

 

(09.32) UMMM

 

_(09.35) Good morning._

_(09.35) Don’t keep me waiting, Yura._

 

(09.47) [Image Description:  Yuri’s silver vibrator, the blue plug they ordered two weeks ago, and his red leather handcuffs all laid out on the bed. The angle is slightly wonky, like Yuri was in a rush to take the photo.]

(09.47) Fuck, Beka.

 

_(09.50) Good choices._

_(09.50) Take the plug into the bathroom with you and get yourself ready for it._

_(09.50) Text me when you’re done._

 

(09.51) FUCK, BEKA

 

_(09.51) Now, Yuri._

 

(10.24) m ready

(10.24) *I’m

(10.24) Fuck

 

_(10.26) That took you a long time._

 

(10.26) wanted to make sure I was perfect for you.

 

_(10.26) Good._

_(10.27) Now, put it in. Nice and slow._

_(10.27) Use a lot of lube, it’s going to be in for a while._

 

(10.28) BEKA

(10.28) Fuuuuck.

 

_(10.29) You’ve got a mouth on you this morning_

 

(10.30) CAN YOU FUCKING BLAME ME

(10.36) Ok

(10.36) It’s in.

 

_(10.37) Good. How does it feel._

 

(10.37) Full.

 

_(10.37) You picked it._

 

(10.38) I’m not complaining

 

_(10.39) It wouldn’t make a difference if you were._

_(10.39) Now, text Victor and Yuuri and tell them you want to have lunch with them._

 

(10.40) WHAT

 

_(10.40) Problem?_

 

(10.41) You’re the worst.

 

_(10.41) Oh is that so?_

_(10.41) I guess you want to stop then._

_(10.42) I guess you don’t want to find out what I have in store for you later._

 

(10.42) Nononono

(10.42) I don't want to stop

(10.45) I've texted them.

 

_(10.46) show me?_

 

(10.46) don't you trust me?

 

_(10.46) Not with this._

 

(10.47) humph

(10.47) fiiiine

 

* * *

 

(10.49) hey old man. You and katsudon want to get lunch today?

 

**(10.49) Yurio! It's been so long!**

**(10.49) missing otabek?**

 

(10.50) fuck off.

 

**(10.51) Aw, that’s adorable.**

 

(10.53) You know what, never mind. It's not worth it.

 

**(10.53) Nooooo Yurio don't be like that.**

**(10.53) the usual place? 1pm?**

 

(10.54) I suppose that works

 

* * *

 

(10.55) [Image Description: Screenshot of yuris conversion with Victor]

(10.55) happy?

 

_(10.56) very good._

_(10.56) now go get ready. Keep the plug in._

 

(10.57) yes sir

 

* * *

 

_(15.12) how was lunch?_

 

(15.47) uncomfortable

 

_(15.48) Victor and yuuri still having adoption difficulties?_

 

(15.49) yes

(15.49) I mean no

(15.49) I mean *yes*, but that's not why it was uncomfortable

 

_(15.50) why was it uncomfortable?_

 

(15.50) seriously??

 

_(15.51) yes_

_(15.51) tell me why it was uncomfortable yura_

 

(15.52) bekaaaa

 

_(15.52) tell me yura_

 

(15.53) ugh.

(15.53) fine

(15.54) because I had to sit for with your plug buried in my ass for two hours pretending that every small movement wasn't causing it it to smash up against my prostate and make me go cross eyed

(15.55) happy now?

 

_(15.56) don't sass your dominant yura, it won't end well for you._

 

(15.57) sorry, sir.

 

_(15.57) Did my plug feel good inside of you?_

 

(15.57) too good

(15.57) I'm pretty sure katsudon could tell, he gave me The Look.

 

_(15.58) probably, you're not very subtle when you're aroused._

 

(15.58) bekaaa

 

_(15.59) is it still inside you?_

 

(15.59) obviously

 

_(16.00) sass, Yura._

 

(16.01) sorry, sir.

 

_(16.01) Go to your room, get undressed._

 

(16.05) Ok

 

_(16.06) Are you undressed?_

 

(16.06) Want a picture?

 

_(16.06) Not yet._

_(16.07) Lie on the bed._

_(16.07) Take your free hand, put it flat against the base of the plug._

 

(16.08) Ok

 

_(16.08) Now press it in, nice and firm_

 

(16.09) Fuck.

 

_(16.09) Again._

 

(16.10) ffffff

_  
_ _(16.10) Keep doing that._

 

(16.10) Fast?

 

_(16.10) Slow_

 

(16.11) ugh

 

_(16.11) Now use your other hand to stroke yourself. Tell me when you’re getting close_

 

(16.12) How will I tell you if i’m using both hands?

 

_(16.12) I guess you’ll have to stop with one._

_(16.13) I’ll let you decide which one_

 

(16.13) BEKA

 

_(16.13) Don’t keep me waiting Yura._

 

(16.32) Clse

 

_(16.32) What was that?_

 

(16.32) close

 

_(16.32) I'm expecting full sentences_

 

(16.33) I’M CLOSE

 

_(16.33) better._

_(16.33) Stop. Both hands off_

 

(16.33) Bekaaaaaaaa

 

_(16.34) Breathe, Yura. Nice and slow._

_(16.38) Ok, start again._

 

(16.46) I'm. Close.

 

_(16.46) Stop._

 

(16.46) FUCK

 

_(16.47) breathe._

_(16.52) again_

 

(16.52) UGH

 

(16.59) I'm close.

(16.59) fuck beka I'm close

(17.00) DON'T IGNORE ME YOU ASSHOLE

 

_(17.01) stop_

 

(17.01) FUCK BEKA

(17.01) WHERE DID YOU GO?

 

_(17.02) nowhere_

 

(17.02) THEN WHY TF DIDN'T YOU REPLY TO ME???

 

_(17.03) That sounds suspiciously like you're questioning my scene._

_(17.03) are you questioning my scene yura?_

 

(17.03)... No

 

_(17.04) good. Again._

 

(17.04) I don't know if I can.

 

_(17.04) you can. Again._

 

(17.09) I'm close.

 

_(17.09) keep going_

_(17.09) don't come_

 

(17.09) beka I can't

 

_(17.09) Keep. Going._

 

(17.12) ffffffff

 

_(17.12) yuri?_

 

(17.14) I'm sorry

 

_(17.14) did you come?_

 

(17.14) I'm sorry! I couldn't stop!

(17.14) it's been so long beka and you told me to keep going and it felt too good I'm sorry

 

_(17.15) shhh, it's okay yuri_

_(17.15) I knew this would be hard for you_

_(17.16) I expected you to last a little longer though_

 

(17.16) I'm sorry!

 

_(17.17) I supposed I'll have to spend my flight back thinking of a suitable punishment_

 

(17.17) fuck, beka.

 

_(17.17) did you make a mess of yourself?_

 

(17.18)... Yes

 

_(17.18) send me a photo._

 

(17.21) [Image Description: Yuri photographed from the neck down, stripes of come streaking his chest. A flash of blue silicon peeks out between his legs]

 

_(17.23) so hot._

 

(17.23) hot enough for you not to punish me?

 

_(17.24) don't push your luck._

_(17.24) OK, go tidy yourself up. Take the plug out nice and slow and then have a long shower. Use the fancy products Victor got you last Christmas._

 

(17.24) yes sir.

(17.47)  I'm done, sir

(17.48) [Image Description: Yuri swamped in a huge white bathrobe, hair still wet from the shower]

 

_(17.50) Good boy._

_(17.50) now, go have an evening with your grandpa, make dinner together and then watch a movie he wants to watch._

 

(17.51) but he has terrible taste in films!

 

_(17.51) you love his old timey films._

 

(17.52) ...okay, maybe a little.

 

_(17.52) I know you well_

 

(17.52) yes, you do.

(17.54) OK, heading down now.

(17.54)... thank you for that beks, I really needed that.

 

_(17.55) I know._

_(17.55) I'll see you soon and we'll do it all again in person._

 

(17.55) yes please.

 

* * *

 

(20:12) btw… Did you come too?

 

_(20:16) what do you think?_

 

* * *

 

_(11.22) we're checked in and through security_

_(11.23) mum cried, Alina cried, dad cried_

 

(11.30) did you cry?

 

_(11.31) my eyes are moist._

 

(11.31) ew

(11.31) you know I hate that word

 

_(11.32) you asked!_

 

(11.32) I hate you

 

_(11.32) love you too_

_(11.35) our gate’s being called, see you soon._

 

(11.36) I'll see you in arrivals

(11.36) just wait until you see my banner


	5. Week 5

The heavy beat of club music pulses in Yuri’s ears, through his body and into his soul. He throws his hands in the air and sways his hips, head listing from side to side as he loses himself in the hypnotic tempo.

 

He’s heard this track a dozen times before, listening through headphones while Otabek perfects each and every note. He knows that the art of a good DJ is to make the crowd think that the music playing was made for them, but in this case it’s actually true.

 

Spoils of war. That’s the title of the track currently spinning; written for him and him alone. Yuri turns to face the stage and grins with fierce pride at Otabek standing behind the DJ deck. His face is a mask of concentration as he tweaks and tunes, headphones around his neck with one cup held up to his ear. He’s dressed in his usual clubbing attire of leather jacket and trousers so tight they look painted on, and Yuri feels his mouth water at the sight, arousal flaring to life inside of him at the picture his boyfriend makes up on stage. 

 

“He’s a sight, isn’t he?” Yuri twists to see who’s speaking, and finds a stranger swaying to the beat next to him. He’s young, probably around the same age as Otabek, wearing a tank top that highlights his impressive physique. He’s staring up at Otabek appreciatively, but quickly turns his attention to Yuri once Yuri acknowledges his presence. “Nothing compared to you, of course,” he says suggestively as he angles his body towards Yuri in clear invitation.

 

Yuri grins dangerously at him, all teeth as he sidles closer to the stranger. He presses his body flush with his, one hand caressing the muscles of his arm while the other comes up to stroke his jawline. He leans forward to whisper-shout in the stranger’s ear, “He’s mine.”

 

The stranger tenses at Yuri’s words, taking a quick step backward and holding his hands up in surrender. “Sorry dude, I didn’t realize…” 

 

Yuri’s hand hand whips out to grab the man’s wrist before he can flee, eyes flicking up to the stage. Predictably, Otabek looks up from his deck a moment later, scanning the crowd until his eyes land on Yuri. Yuri tilts his head toward the stranger, and grins when Otabek’s eyes darken possessively. Otabek pauses for a second, sharp eyes assessing the stranger, then gives a small nod, practically imperceptible to anybody who isn’t looking for it. 

 

Yuri grins wider and tugs at the stranger’s arm to pull him back toward him. The man stumbles forward, his expression a mixture of confused and aroused. “The name’s Yuri,” Yuri says silkily as he wraps his arms around the other man’s shoulders, gyrating his hips lazily in time with the music. “Want to dance?”

  
  


* * *

 

They've barely made it through the front door before Otabek slams Yuri up against the wall, mouth immediately latching onto the exposed column of Yuri’s neck as his hands bracket Yuri’s shoulders, palms flat against the wall as he crowds into Yuri’s personal space.

 

Yuri whimpers and feels his legs buckle as arousal flares through him, hot and desperate. His purple leather jacket is suddenly excruciatingly, unbearably warm, despite him having worn it for hours underneath the sweltering lights of the club that evening. He wriggles out of it hastily, letting the garment pool unceremoniously at his feet; he'll deal with it later when there are less pressing matters at hand. Specifically Otabek's hands, which have started roving up and down Yuri’s ribs as his mouth moves over to attack the other side of his neck. 

 

“I saw you, you know I did,” Otabek growls possessively, lips still pressed against Yuri’s skin as he speaks. Yuri can feel little puffs of air against the wetness Otabek’s mouth has left behind and it sends shivers coursing through his body. “Dancing with all those other men while I was on stage.” His hands slip down to grope at Yuri’s ass, fingers digging in so tight they’ll probably leave a mark. “Did you make them think that they could have this? Make them think you weren't already claimed by me?”

 

“No… No Beka,” Yuri gasps, brain struggling to remember how to string words together when faced with the full weight of Otabek's dominance. “Was for you… All for you…”

 

“Is that why you let them touch you? Let them rub all up against you like wild dogs marking their territory?”

 

Heat spikes through Yuri again at Otabek’s coarse language, but there’s a tendril of ice shooting along with it. Not a lot, but enough to pull him back from the edge he’s teetering on. 

 

“Wait, wait,” he gasps, pushing weakly against Otabek’s shoulders to try and put some space between them. When Otabek simply growls and crowds even closer he huffs out an exasperated breath and rolls his eyes. He’s pleased that Otabek has finally gotten over his tendency to jump a mile any time Yuri shows even the slightest indication of hesitance during a scene, but it’s also kind of hard to think straight with Otabek pressed so close, mouthing at his neck in the way he knows makes Yuri go cross-eyed. “Yellow, Beka. Just a second, please.”

 

The switch is instantaneous. Otabek’s arms drop away from Yuri’s waist and he takes a large step backward, putting a good few inches of space between them. Yuri can still see the fire of arousal flickering behind his eyes, his chest heaving with barely restrained passion, but he cocks his head to the side and waits patiently for whatever it is that has Yuri concerned enough to use his safeword.

 

Yuri gulps a deep breath of air, trying to collect himself enough to be coherent. “You...you didn’t actually mind, did you?” Otabek raises an eyebrow in question, and he hastens to clarify. “Me... dancing with other people in the club. I told all of them I had a boyfriend, and pointed you out up on the stage, I swear. And I didn’t let any hands wander further than...”

 

He’s cut off by Otabek’s lips pressing softly against his, the words dying in his throat as Otabek kisses him with such love and adoration. When Otabek draws away there’s a soft smile on his face, and it melts that shard of ice more effectively than any heat. “We’ve talked about this Yuri, you know I don’t mind. I think it’s hot watching you dance while I’m DJ-ing.”

 

Yuri huffs out an embarrassed laugh. They have talked about it, at length. The exact boundaries of what is and isn’t okay when they go clubbing together. Yuri knows he stayed well within their limits tonight, and he knows that Otabek knows too. The jealous act Otabek is putting on is just that, an act, and now he feels silly for having broken them out of the moment.

 

Otabek seems to notice Yuri’s inner conflict, and just like that the switch is flipped back again. His eyes go dark and predatory as he presses his body up against Yuri’s, one hand coming down to wrap around Yuri’s wrist and pin it above his head while the other grabs his chin to hold him in place.

 

“Do you find it hot Yura, displaying yourself for me? Do you love showing off that beautiful body of yours, moving to the music that I create?”

 

Yuri groans, eyes fluttering shut under the weight of Otabek’s stare. “Yes, yes Beka,”

 

“I watched them all, you know, each time you walked away. Watched them watch  _ you _ , as you left them hard and horny and alone in the middle of the dance floor. All of them wishing they could have you, and none of them able to.” Otabek brings Yuri’s other hand up to join the first one, grip stretching so he can pin both of Yuri’s hands above his head with one of his own. “But none of them could have you, could they? ”

 

“No, no sir,” Yuri practically mewls, hips bucking forward in a desperate attempt to grind up against Otabek’s body. 

 

“Why can't they have you, Yura?”

 

“Because I'm yours, all yours, always.” Yuri can barely think, let alone speak. All the blood in his body has rushed straight to his groin and left him a writhing, wanton mess underneath Otabek's hands. “Please, please, sir. Touch me.”

 

Otabek grins, dark and devious, and attacks Yuri’s mouth with his own. Their bodies crush together, Otabek’s thigh slipping between Yuri’s legs to press teasingly against his desperate cock, and Yuri melts against him, sinking into the warmth of his embrace. 

 

After what simultaneously feels like an eternity and no time at all, Otabek breaks away, chest rising and falling heavily as he gulps down air, free hand eagerly caressing Yuri’s side. His voice is rough like sandpaper as he practically growls, “Are you going to show me, Yura? Show me just how much you’re mine?”

 

Yuri’s legs buckle under the weight of Otabek’s words, and he feels Otabek’s hand come up to his jawline to steady him. “Yes, fuck Beka, let me show you.”

 

Otabek’s mouth quirks up at the raw desperation in Yuri’s voice, but Yuri can’t bring himself to be embarrassed, not when the arousal flooding through his body is threatening to burn him alive.

 

“Good,” Otabek says, and then the hand at his jaw is sliding down to press at his collarbone, the fingers around his wrists relaxing enough to let his arms fall back to his sides. “Kneel.”

 

Otabek’s body is still flush against Yuri’s, and there’s barely enough space for him to kneel, let alone do it gracefully. Not one be bested by something as trivial as space, though, Yuri harnesses every inch of flexibility Lilia ever gifted him with and folds himself sinuously onto his knees at Otabek’s feet. His ass rests lightly on his heels, and his hands fold neatly in his lap at he stares up at Otabek; his expression the fine line between supplication and challenge that only he knows how to tread.

 

Otabek’s hand cups his cheek, and Yuri’s eyes flutter closed as he leans into the gentle touch. He feels the calloused pad of Otabek’s thumb trace over his lower lip, and he lets his mouth slip open just a fraction.

 

“So beautiful, on your knees for me like this,” Otabek croons, his thumb dragging Yuri’s lower lip down before letting it go. “I’m the only one you do this for, isn’t that right Yura?”

 

Yuri moans his affirmation, tongue flicking out to tease at Otabek’s thumb. His eyes stay closed as he lets Otabek’s words and touch wash over him, ground him in a way that nothing else can.

 

“My strong, fearless soldier. You kneel for nobody but me.” 

 

“Nobody,” Yuri agrees, tilting forward just an inch so that he can suckle on the tip of Otabek’s thumb, drawing the digit into his mouth so that it rests lightly on his tongue.

 

He hears Otabek groan, and then the sound of a zipper being drawn. Otabek removes his thumb from Yuri’s mouth but Yuri barely has time to mourn its loss before the blunt tip of Otabek’s cock traces lightly against his lips, promising to take it’s place.

 

“Open,” Otabek commands, and Yuri licks his lips before relaxing his jaw so that Otabek’s cock can slip inside.

 

Otabek slides forward, until just over half of his considerable length is inside Yuri’s mouth. Yuri can feel it hot and heavy on his tongue, just shy of uncomfortable. His senses are awash with touch, taste and smell of his dominant’s most intimate area, but Otabek hasn’t told him to do anything more than open his mouth yet. So Yuri waits patiently, cheeks hollowed and eyes fixed on Otabek towering above him.

 

Otabek groans again, and Yuri is sure he can see his left knee shuddering in the corner of his vision. When he speaks his voice is utterly calm, though, his fingertips stroking lightly along Yuri’s cheek and around to clasp the back of his neck as he asks, “You’re going to take everything I give you, aren’t you?”

 

Yuri hums in agreement around Otabek’s cock, grinning to himself as he hears Otabek swear in response. His satisfaction only lasts a moment however, and then he’s entirely focussed on remembering to breathe as Otabek starts to slide forward, burying himself in Yuri’s mouth. 

 

The muscles of Yuri’s throat flutter at the intrusion, and he forces them to relax as Otabek’s cock hits the back of his throat. It’s far from the first time he’s taken Otabek this far, but there’s always the same initial moment of panic, as his body balks at the sudden lack of oxygen.

 

“Shhh, you’re doing so well,” Otabek reassures, fingers tightening around Yuri’s neck as he pushes even deeper, the tip of his cock sliding past the last line of resistance and down Yuri’s throat proper. Yuri whimpers, the hand on his neck holding him completely still as Otabek plunders his mouth and beyond.

 

Once Otabek is fully ensconced in Yuri’s mouth, pelvis pressed flush to Yuri’s nose, he holds himself there for a long beat. Yuri focusses on taking long breaths through his nose, quelling his gag reflex as his body slowly adjusts to the intrusion. He’s just about acclimatized when Otabek starts to draw out, his cock almost slipping from Yuri’s lips before he thrusts the whole way back in in one smooth stroke. He repeats the same movement twice slowly, and then starts to pick up speed until he’s thrusting rapidly the whole way down Yuri’s throat. 

 

Otabek’s other hand joins the first cupping Yuri’s neck, holding Yuri’s face perfectly still so that he’s powerless to do anything more than take everything Otabek gives him. Yuri moans in pleasure as Otabek slides in and out between his lips, his own hands coming up to clasp at the round globes of Otabek’s ass in encouragement. A particularly rough thrust has the back of his head brushing lightly up against the wall, and it drives him wild to know that he’s so completely pinned by Otabek’s body. His cock is straining against the inside of his pants, his arousal burning like a forest fire under his skin. 

 

Both of Otabek’s hands leave Yuri’s neck at the same time, and Yuri hears them slap against the wall above him as Otabek braces himself. His leg spread wider so that he has a better stance to thrust down into Yuri’s throat, and his hips start to snap roughly forward, each movement just a little sharper than the one before it as he starts to really fuck Yuri’s face. 

 

Yuri feels completely owned, nothing more than an orifice to be used and enjoyed by his dominant, and he  _ loves _ it. He exists solely for Otabek’s pleasure; he’s  _ become _ Otabek’s pleasure. Forget the Ice Tiger of Russia, he’s Yuri Plisetsky: release incarnate.

 

He feels Otabek’s rhythm start to falter, knows that his dominant is fast reaching his peak. He barely thinks about what he’s doing as one hand leaves Otabek’s ass to start roughly palming at his bulging erection through his jeans; the teeth of the zipper digging through his briefs and aggravating the sensitive flesh of his painfully hard cock.

 

“Fuck... fuck...  _ Yuri _ ,” Otabek moans, voice catching around Yuri’s name as he stills, buried to the hilt in Yuri’s mouth as his orgasm hits. Yuri feels hot liquid splash down his throat, and the sensation is enough to set him off as well. He groans around Otabek’s cock as his own pulses underneath his hand.

 

Otabek is panting heavily as he draws out of Yuri’s mouth, hands sliding down and away from the wall as he does so. Yuri feels a trickle of liquid run down his chin as Otabek’s cock pops free of his lips, but Otabek’s gentle fingers brush it away before he can even think to do anything about it. He hums happily and licks away a droplet of come that starts to seep from Otabek’s slit, still perfectly positioned right in front of his face. Otabek swears at the sudden oversensitivity, and slips two fingers underneath Yuri’s chin to encourage him to stand.

 

Yuri rises on surprisingly shaky legs, but he’s saved from the hassle of having to actually support his own body weight by the possessive arm that immediately slips around his waist, drawing him flush to Otabek’s chest as his dominant claims his lips in one last, thorough kiss.

 

When they finally break for air Otabek’s eyes are shining with affection, and he presses a quick peck to Yuri’s nose before taking his hand and leading them both towards the sofa.

 

Yuri takes one step and then pauses, wincing as the mess in his briefs makes itself known. Otabek turns back inquiringly when it becomes obvious that Yuri isn’t following him, eyes flicking down to Yuri’s crotch and back up again as he correctly guesses the cause of Yuri’s hesitance.

 

“I don’t remember giving you permission to come,” he says, his voice taking on enough of an edge that Yuri knows the scene isn’t quite over yet. “That’s the second time in as many weeks; I’m disappointed in you Yura.”

 

Yuri’s still riding the high of their scene though, his brain a little orgasm-silly, which is probably why he can’t help the sass that slips into his voice as he replies, “I’m sorry, my mouth was a little occupied. Does this mean that next time you’d rather I stop sucking your cock for long enough to ask permission?”

 

Otabek barks out a short laugh, and quickly closes the gap between them again. His fingers tangle in Yuri’s hair, forcing him to make eye contact. “Sounds like somebody’s already forgotten who they belong to,” he says, voice dark and full of promise. “I suppose my next reminder will need to be much more thorough.” 

 

He tugs Yuri forward for another bruising kiss, leaving Yuri breathless and feeling even more reckless than before. When then break apart Yuri’s hands come up to trace across Otabek’s chest, fingers scratching possessively over Otabek’s pecs as he leans forward to whisper challengingly in his ear. 

 

“Do your worst, I’m looking forward to it.”


	6. Week 6

“Keep your eyes closed, we’re nearly there.” Otabek’s voice floats over Yuri’s shoulder from where he’s walking behind him. Warm hands are clasped over Yuri’s eyes, nudging him gently left and right as Otabek guides him through his apartment.

 

“It’s not like I’ll be able to see anything even if it did open them,” Yuri argues as he allows himself to be directed through what feels like a doorway, hesitating only slightly as his feet catch on the threshold.

 

“Do you  _ want _ to spoil the surprise?” Otabek asks, sounding put out as he clenches his fingers tighter together to stop even the smallest hint of light getting through. Yuri laughs at his boyfriend’s tone and dutifully keeps his eyes shut behind Otabek’s palms. For all his complaining he doesn’t  _ actually _ want to ruin whatever Otabek has planned.

 

Otabek stops them a few steps inside the room and withdraws his hands with a flourish, stepping around to stand next to Yuri so that he can properly see his reaction. Yuri blinks a few times to clear the spots that cloud his vision at the sudden exposure to light, looking left and right to work out where they are. They’re in Otabek’s spare room, but all of the DJ and workout equipment that usually litters the floor has been cleared away, leaving a decent sized expanse of clear floor-space. Yuri frowns, confused. Did Otabek really just want to show him that he’s tidied up? 

 

“Beka…” he begins, voice betraying his confusion, but his boyfriend cuts him off with a gentle nudge to his shoulder.

 

“Up there,” Otabek says with a smile, pointing towards the ceiling. Yuri slowly tips his head skywards to follow Otabek’s finger, and jerks in surprise when he finally notices the important new addition to the room.

 

There’s a large square plate affixed to the ceiling in the center of the room, with a linked chain attached to each corner. The four chains are brought together about a foot below the plate, held together by a large D-ring that attaches to the first link of of a fifth chain. This fifth chain hangs vertically down for another two feet, and at the bottom Yuri can see a heavy duty silver hook. It’s a hook that’s clearly designed to hold a significant amount of weight; one might even say a Yuri Plisetsky amount of weight. 

 

Oh. Fuck.

 

His breath leaves him in a rushed exhale, suddenly overwhelmed by the sight in front of him. Suspension. They’ve been discussing the logistics of a suspension scene for months now, but Yuri had no idea that Otabek had actually started making arrangements, actually started making purchases.

 

“ _ Beka _ ,” he says again, this time giving the word the appreciation it fully deserves. 

 

“Do you like it?” Otabek asks with a small grin, already knowing exactly what the answer is. Does he like it? Yuri fucking worships it, and he hasn’t even touched it yet.

 

“I guess you’ve given up on ever getting your security deposit back then,” Yuri says wryly, not bothering to answer such an obvious question as he continues to stare up in awe at the contraption.

 

“Actually,” Otabek replies, eyes flashing deviously. “My landlord gave me full permission to put it up, no deposit restrictions required.”

 

Yuri snorts, finally tearing his gaze away from the ceiling to look incredulously at his boyfriend. “How the hell did you manage that? You’re a smooth motherfucker, Altin, but you’re not that smooth.”

 

Otabek clasps a hand to his heart, “I’m hurt, Yura.” When Yuri simply continues to stare at him, one eyebrow raised in disbelief, he chuckles softly and takes a step forward, reaching above his head to toy with the hook. “It was all very civilized, really. I simply explained to him that, as a world class athlete, I required regular access to a punching bag for my daily workout.”

 

It takes a moment for the words to fully register, but when they do Yuri splutters in shock. 

 

“The fuck Beka?!” Yuri’s voice seem shrill even to his own ears but  _ seriously _ ? “You went through all this to show me a fucking punching bag?” The indignation coils hot and vicious in his chest, coupled with something that feels suspiciously like embarrassment. Did he really misread the situation that badly?

 

Otabek manages to keep up the facade for all of five seconds before his stoic expression slips and he splutters out a gasp of laughter. Yuri can only stare in shock and fury as Otabek laughs and coughs and then laughs some more. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just...  _ your face _ , Yura. Oh...wow...I wish I’d filmed that.” He coughs again, finally getting himself under control enough to talk normally. “No, of course it’s not a punching bag. It’s exactly what you think it is.”

 

“Which is what exactly?” Yuri spits, crossing his arms defensively in front of him. He’s not going to be fooled again by his jackass of a boyfriend. 

 

Otabek’s eyes flash darkly, his expression switching from amused to predatory in an instant. “Why, it’s to hang you from, of course.”

 

Yuri swallows roughly, the air around him suddenly feeling too dry in the wake of Otabek’s assertion. Otabek’s dark grin flashes again, and he takes a step back toward Yuri, hand reaching out to clasp possessively at the nape of his neck. “Would you like that, my Yura?” He croons, head dropping low so that his words caress the shell of Yuri’s ear as he speaks. “Do you want to be held in place, that beautiful body of yours all stretched out for me, while I have my fun with you in whatever way I want?”

 

_ Fuck yes _ , Yuri wants that. He’s hard in his pants just from thinking about it. But he hasn’t quite forgiven Otabek yet for that prank he pulled, so instead he meets his boyfriend’s possessive gaze with a flinty one of his own. “Fuck you, Beka,” he practically spits.

 

Otabek laughs, taking a step back and letting his hand fall between them. “Only if you’re very, very good,” he promises.

 

* * *

 

Yuri wants to get started straight away, but Otabek reluctantly admits that there’s some setup they need to do first. Setup that will go much quicker if they both remain fully clothed, he insists much to Yuri’s disappointment. So, Yuri ends up wrapping his favorite red leather cuffs around his own wrists - not nearly as sexy as when Otabek does it for him - while Otabek digs out the stepladder from wherever he usually keeps it. 

 

“How does that feel?” Otabek asks, standing three rungs up on the ladder to slip the metal loop between Yuri’s cuffs onto the hook. Yuri shrugs his shoulders to get comfortable, taking stock of his position. With the length of chain as it currently stands, his feet are perfectly flat against the floor, elbows slightly bent just above his head.

 

“Higher,” he says flexing his toes into the carpet underneath him. He wants to feel at least  _ some _ strain.

 

Otabek grunts in affirmation, and attaches the D-ring to the second loop of the vertical chain, cinching Yuri’s hands higher by about two inches. Yuri feels his arms tugged straighter, but his feet remain flat on the floor. It’s still comfortable. Too comfortable.

 

“Higher,” he says again, locking his elbows so that his arms stretch as far as they can above his head. He feels the chain sway with newfound slack, and Otabek dutifully adjusts the D-ring to tighten it again.

 

“How about now?” Otabek asks again. Yuri tugs on his cuffs once, enjoying the distinct lack of give in response. His arms are taut, his stomach muscles tense as his body is stretched skywards, but his feet are still firmly on the floor. It’s close, but not enough, not yet.

 

“ _ Higher _ ,” he insists, standing on his toes to show Otabek what he means _. _

 

“Yuri,” Otabek’s voice is tinged with warning, and Yuri is suddenly reminded of just how much this scene must be asking of his boyfriend. He knows that Otabek is trying so hard to work out what his new limits are in the wake of their catastrophic scene at the beginning of the season, and this is him clearly letting Yuri know that he’s reaching the edge of what he’s comfortable with. 

 

Yuri takes a moment to be proud of his boyfriend, for not baulking immediately at Yuri’s request but also being clear in communicating his limits. He makes sure he meets Otabek’s gaze when he replies, so that Otabek can see the clear emotions on his face. “Just one more, please Beka.”  _ I’m fine, this is fine, I promise. _

 

He grins to himself as Otabek gives a long suffering sigh but removes one more link from the chain nonetheless. He’s now supporting himself entirely on the balls of his feet, his his arms stretched taut and heavy under the increased tension the pose is exacting on his body. He feels precarious, weightless, like one wrong step will send him swinging uncontrollably. “Yes. Yes, that’s so good,” he says happily, more to himself than Otabek.

 

“I’m glad you think so, any more and Lilia will be coming after me for ruining your ankles,” Beka replies sternly, and Yuri doesn’t miss the way he pointedly chooses to comment on Yuri’s ankles rather than his shoulders as he checks the adjustments one more time before reaching up to unhook Yuri’s cuffs.

 

Yuri grins, rolling his shoulders to bring the feeling back into them. Fuck, if his body already feels like this after only a few minutes, what on earth will it feel like after an entire evening of play? 

 

He can’t wait to find out.

 

“Maybe I should ask Lilia to teach me pointe, then you can really cinch that thing up,” he comments, raising an eyebrow suggestively as Otabek carefully climbs down from the stepladder.

 

Otabek laughs as he reaches the bottom rung and leans over to press a soft kiss to Yuri’s lips. “I’d love to see you try and explain that one; she’d see through you in an instant.”

 

Yuri can’t help his derisive snort. “You really think that if I ask her to teach me pointe her first thought will be that I plan to use it in the bedroom?”

 

Otabek shrugs, folding up the ladder with quick, precise movements. “You’ve been training under her for what, five years now? And you suddenly get an interest in pointe after we start dating? She’s a smarter lady that you give her credit for.” He looks up at Yuri, expression deceptively innocent, “Besides, I bet her and Yakov were  _ super _ kinky back in the day.” 

 

“Oh my god, you’re worse than Victor!” Yuri shrieks, clapping his hands over his ears and turning away from his evil boyfriend, who simply cackles with joy at having turned Yuri bright, bright red.

 

* * *

 

If Yuri thought that being chained fully clothed felt good, it’s  _ nothing _ compared to later that evening when he gets to experience it again, only this time completely naked save for the matching red leather collar wrapped around his neck.

 

Objectively it shouldn’t feel much different, he thinks as Otabek tugs on his cuffs to check the support of the chain above him. The strain on his arms is just as intense as earlier, his purchase on the floor still just the right side of precarious. Physically it shouldn’t feel any different just because he’s lost a few layers of clothing, and yet somehow it does. It really does.

 

“How does it feel?” Otabek asks, tracing his index finger from the hook down Yuri’s arm and along his collarbone, dipping the digit into his collar and giving a short tug. 

 

Yuri shudders into the touch, letting his eyes slip closed as the gesture sends pinpricks of heat flickering across his skin. All of his senses feel heightened as a result of his body being exposed and wholly restrained; survival instinct kicking in as a result of his subconscious mind’s perceived peril. He can hear Otabek’s breaths on the still air, feel his own heartbeat pounding against his ribcage.

 

“I asked you a question, Yura,” Otabek’s voice comes from behind him this time, and Yuri has to crane his neck to try and see where he’s gone. A hand comes up to grasp his chin, firm and steady, guiding his head back around. “Eyes forward, the way you know I like you.”

 

Yuri whines at the commanding tone, at the implication behind his words.

 

“Feels good, sir,” he gasps, bouncing on the balls of his feet and relishing the little pumps of tension that course through his limbs. “Really, really good.”

 

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Otabek says, voice deceptively sweet, “Because this isn’t supposed to feel  _ good _ .”

 

Two light kicks to the inside of his calves, and Yuri finds his legs suddenly spread wide, toes scrabbling for purchase on the carpet as his cuffs momentarily take his entire weight. He whimpers at the sudden straining of his limbs, stretched to their utmost limits as the chain above his head creaks and sways.

 

“ _ Now _ how does it feel?” Otabek asks, his voice taunting as one of his hands slips down to palm at the globe of Yuri’s ass, the other tracing over the front of Yuri’s collar and giving a soft squeeze. Not enough to restrict his breathing, but enough of a suggestion that Yuri’s survival instincts flare.

 

“Be- beka,” Yuri stutters, panic shooting through his veins as his hands scrabble at the soft sheepskin lining his cuffs, desperately trying to keep his footing. He feels dangerously unbalanced, like he might slip and fall at any moment.

 

The hand on his neck trails down his front, fingertips dancing along his sternum before wrapping around his waist, pulling him flush against Otabek’s torso behind him. “Shhh, I’ve got you Yura, I’ve got you.” 

 

Yuri moans and lets his head tip back to rest on Otabek’s shoulder, his boyfriend’s clothed body steady and sure behind him. He finds his footing again - despite his new wider stance - and slowly starts to adjust to his new position. He can feel Otabek’s hand start to tease at his asscheeks again, and he wills his body to relax, to accept what his dominant is giving him. 

 

He feels the firm press of two lubed fingers against his entrance, and can’t help his body tensing at the suggestion. It’s not a great angle, which means it’s going to be tighter than usual, and a tendril of hesitance flickers through him.

 

“Let me in, Yura,” Otabek’s tone is firm, as insistent as his fingers in their quest for access. His voice feels like a warm blanket coming to rest around his shoulders, comforting in its familiarity. Yuri lets out a long exhale, willing his muscles to unclench. Otabek is here with him, and nothing bad can possibly happen while that’s the case. 

 

“Good boy,” Otabek praises when Yuri relaxes enough to let the tips of his fingers breach his rim, pressing in slowly but surely until he’s buried all the way inside Yuri’s body. Yuri lets out a soft mewl as he adjusts to the intrusion - two fingers at once is always a lot to accommodate, event without the bad angle - but it’s a welcome burn, like a good stretch after a hard practice. 

 

“So good for me, taking everything I give you so well,” Otabek peppers the air with praise as he starts to pump his fingers in and out, opening Yuri up just that little bit further with every press. His arm tightens around Yuri’s waist, drawing him even closer to him as he starts to press hot, open mouthed kissed to the juncture between Yuri’s neck and shoulder. Between the chains and Otabek’s arm, Yuri is held completely motionless. The most he can do is try not to let his legs buckle when Otabek seeks out that special spot inside of him that makes him see stars.

 

He’s powerless, entirely at Otabek’s mercy. Otabek, whose enclosing arm is like a safe port in a storm, his voice keeping him grounded even as his fingers threaten to send him flying. Those artful fingers caress that sweet spot inside of again and this time Yuri doesn’t even try and hold himself up, letting himself sink wholly into Otabek’s embrace.

 

He can hear Otabek laughing behind him, hot breaths of air puffing against his skin even as his fingers increase their tempo. “Come on, Yura. You can’t be getting tired already, we’ve barely started.”

 

Yuri huffs at the insinuation, and scrunches his face in concentration as he focusses on getting his legs stable underneath him again. It’s easier said than done; he feels like a newborn foal, all gangly limbs and no balance. Lilia would have a heart attack if she could see her prima now.

 

Now is not the time to be thinking of his ballet instructor, though, as Otabek slips a third finger inside of him without warning. It slides in easily, all the way to the last knuckle, and Yuri keens at the added stretch. He feels on fire, in more ways than one.

 

“So good for me,” Otabek reiterates, and then suddenly the fingers in his ass are gone. Yuri is about to protest their disappearance when he hears the distinctive sound of a zipper sliding open, and the next thing he feels is Otabek’s slicked cock pressing against his entrance. Oh, yes, this is better. Much, much better.

 

Otabek slides home confidently, with purpose, and Yuri lets out a contented sigh as Otabek fills him up. It seems extravagant to describe a cock as perfect, but really there’s no other word for it. Otabek’s cock is completely, utterly perfect, like it was crafted especially for Yuri. Kind of like how Yuri’s body, especially in moments like these, feels like it was made for Otabek, and nobody else. 

 

He was made for his dominant, to use however he sees fit. Yuri is a vessel for Otabek’s pleasure, and judging by the way Otabek groans and tightens his hold on Yuri, he’s a vessel that is about to be used very, very well indeed.

 

Otabek starts fucking into him determinedly; long, hard strokes that have Yuri scrabbling with his toes to keep himself upright. His body sways forward with every inward press; the creaking of the chains above him a sharp counterpoint to the pair’s heavy breathing, and with every outward pull Yuri’s body is dragged backward by the friction of Otabek’s dick before it slips free. There’s a rhythmic wave to their movements, undulating forward and back, and Yuri lets himself drown in it, head slipping under the surface with a grateful sigh.

 

Otabek’s free hand comes down to clasp at his thigh, and Yuri feels his leg being pulled up and back. He moves instinctively, years of muscle memory taking over as Otabek guides him into a  _ back attitude _ , wrapping Yuri’s leg around his waist as he uses the adjusted angle to fuck him even deeper. Yuri howls as Otabek drives home, all of his weight now on one leg and leaving him increasingly unbalanced as Otabek’s movements start to lose some of their rhythm as he barrels towards his inevitable climax.

 

“Be- Beka, please,” Yuri begs breathlessly. The angle is good, so good, but it’s not quite enough. He needs something more to tip him over the edge.

 

“Don’t lose form,” Otabek growls as he lets go of Yuri’s leg, reaching around to start stroking his neglected cock.

 

Yuri’s vision starts to white out at the edges, and the moment of inattention causes his weight-bearing leg to buckle. He catches himself just before the cuffs have to completely take his weight, but his back leg has already slipped down to Otabek’s hip. “Fuck...fuck!” Yuri shouts, frustration taking the edge off his arousal. There are too many moving pieces, too many things to keep track of. It’s all too much and he just wants to  _ come _ .

 

“You can do it, Yura, show me how perfect you can be.” Otabek’s voice is like a lightning rod, honing Yuri’s focus and bringing him back into the room. His hand is still moving rapidly over Yuri’s length, his hips still snapping rhythmically against Yuri’s ass, but suddenly it doesn’t all feel so overwhelming. Yuri takes a slow, steady breath. Fixes his form. Curls his toes into the carpet. Lets his body stretch lean and long. 

 

He’s got this.

 

“Such a good boy,” Otabek grunts in approval, punctuating his words with short, sharp thrusts into Yuri’s ass that have him practically howling in pleasure.

 

“Hnng...Bekaaa,” he moans, feeling his release start to build deep inside of him. “Please can I….I’m so close...”

 

“Come for me,” Otabek commands, and Yuri’s body arches in a wordless scream as his release spills over Otabek’s fist, hot and pulsing and seemingly endless.

 

He comes back to himself a moment later, panting heavily. His body feels spent in the wake of such an intense orgasm, and he knows that despite his best efforts Otabek is now supporting practically all of his weight. He can’t help it though, he feels boneless. Like his spine was ejected from body along with his come. 

 

He sways listlessly, body like a ragdoll as Otabek fucks into him once, twice, three more times before groaning and stilling, his body pressed flush with Yuri’s as he pulses his release into him. 

 

For a while they both just stand there, too tired to do anything more than pant heavily, breaths falling into sync like they always seem to do post-scene. After what feels like an eternity Otabek groans, reaching above them to unhook Yuri’s cuffs. As soon as he’s detached the last of Yuri’s strength evaporates, and they both sink to the floor in a messy pile.

 

Yuri is sticky with sweat and semen; his own splattered across his front and Otabek’s trickling down his thighs. His hair is plastered to his forehead and the strain on his shoulders and back has evolved into a dull ache. He’s a mess, there’s no other word for it, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not while Otabek is curled around him, fingers carding through his hair and stroking along his spine. He whispers sweet nothings into Yuri’s ear as he gently undoes the cuffs around his wrists, bringing each arm up in turn to kiss the thin skin of his wrists once he’s finished. Yuri whimpers a little when Otabek moves to take his collar off, but Otabek shushes him with yet more kisses along his jawline and throat to make up for its loss.

 

Eventually Yuri starts to shiver, the warmth of subspace not enough to ward off the insistent Russian cold, so Otabek bundles him into bed before disappearing and returning moments later with two mugs of steaming cocoa. He’s even put a few marshmallows in Yuri’s, which Yuri snorts at but doesn’t object to.

 

“How do you feel?” Otabek asks, climbing carefully into bed next to Yuri so as not to disturb their drinks.

 

Yuri tilts his head, considering. There’s a definite ache running through his body, his muscles tight and knotted from so long in such a strenuous position. It feels like after a hard training session, one where he’s pushed his body to brave, daring new heights. “Like I’m going to be feeling this scene for days,” he answers happily, take a loud slurp of cocoa to emphasise his point.

 

Otabek laughs and shifts closer, free arm slipping around Yuri’s waist as he drops his head to press a soft kiss to his collarbone. “Good thing we’ve still got a few more days before training starts then.”

 

Yuri hums in agreement, his previous joy suddenly tinged with sadness at the realization that their six weeks of relative freedom are coming to an end. Once training starts up again in earnest they’ll be back to careful scenes, no marks anywhere that might show, nothing that might in any way affect either of their chances at gold. He wouldn’t give skating up for the world, of course, but still…

 

“I’m going to miss this, what we’ve had these last few weeks,” he admits, chancing a quick look at Otabek in the hopes that he might see a similar sentiment written across his boyfriend’s features. Otabek’s expression is soft, painfully fond as he reaches up to stroke Yuri’s cheek.

 

“Me too,” he says, and Yuri breathes out a soft breath of relief at not being alone in this. “But we don’t have to stop completely just because training is starting again, you know that.”

 

Yuri hums in agreement, “I know, I know.” A sudden idea pops into his head, and he twists eagerly to face Otabek, almost spilling his cocoa in his eagerness. “Hey, do you think we could use the training harness after hours one time? Next step is flying sex right?”

 

There’s a beat of silence, and then Otabek’s laughter rings through the air, loud and bright so endearing that Yuri can’t help but chuckle along. 

 

“Fuck, whatever did I do to deserve you?” Otabek says by way of answer, putting his mug down on the bedside table so he can take Yuri’s face in both hands to kiss him. Yuri smiles into the kiss, letting himself melt under his boyfriend’s touch. 

 

Personally he thinks it’s more likely the other way around, but if Otabek’s thinking means more kisses like these - and maybe sex in the skating harness - then he’s certainly not going to argue.


End file.
